


thunderbolts and lightning

by LadyMerlin



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Bondage, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Consensual Kink, Don't copy to another site, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Impact Play, M/M, Masochism, Painplay, Painslut!Edward Elric, Sadism, Whipping, basically filthy bdsm smut happy june or whatever, mild blood kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-20 04:16:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19369576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMerlin/pseuds/LadyMerlin
Summary: “Love you too,” Ed grumbles back, because he won’t pretend otherwise, even when he’s being punished. Besides, this is something they’ve talked about before. Ed doubts Roy would have ever raised a hand to him, if it wasn’t something they both wanted. This is just an excuse, but Ed can play along as well as anyone else.





	thunderbolts and lightning

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am, just doing my part to contribute to the painfully small repository of painslut!Ed in this fandom (hah, see what I did there?). [Asuralucier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asuralucier/pseuds/asuralucier), see, I got here eventually :P

The first lash cracks like thunder in his ears.

Ed hears it before it lands, and even after it does, it takes a split second before sensation sears across his ass, a line of fire from one hip to the other. He shouts, more in surprise than in actual pain, and jerks hard against his restraints.

He’s kneeling on a padded bench, his wrists and ankles neatly bound to the flat surfaces with wide leather straps, so secure that he wouldn’t be able to break free, without alchemy. Even though the doors and windows are locked and he’s the only one in the room with Roy, he feels oddly vulnerable in this position, especially since he’s absolutely naked, and Roy is still in full uniform.

“That was just a teaser, Edward. After this, you’re going to count.” Ed tries to glare at him, but his loose hair is everywhere and he can’t see.

Roy sighs softly and Ed hears the click of the whip handle as Roy puts it down. Then he’s crouching beside Ed, gathering his hair with soft hands. He makes sure to get every piece out of Ed’s face, and Ed thinks this is so that it doesn’t distract him, or tickle his nose at an otherwise intense moment, or prevent him from seeing what Roy is doing. He’s grateful for it, especially when Roy takes care to braid it loosely down one side so that it can hang over his shoulder, perpendicular to the surface of the bench he’s lying on.

Roy bends down and kisses his cheek softly, but Ed’s so firmly tied that he can’t even turn his face to kiss back. All he can do is hug the bench and lie there. He’s being punished. “I love you,” Roy says softly.

“Love you too,” Ed grumbles back, because he won’t pretend otherwise, even when he’s being punished. Besides, this is something they’ve talked about before. Ed has no doubt that Roy would rather take his own hands off than raise a hand to Ed, if it wasn’t something they both wanted. This is just an excuse, but Ed can play along as well as anyone else.

“Count the strokes, darling. Or else I’ll re-start.” Ed grunts but doesn’t reply. “Say yes if you understand me.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Ed spits, though he can feel his face going red from frustration.

“Do you remember what your safeword is? Do you remember what I told you?” Roy sounds unperturbed by Ed’s anger, which oddly makes Ed less angry in turn.

“If I say stop, you’ll stop,” Ed recites, as obediently as he can, with a minimum amount of eye-rolling.

“Good boy. Start from one and we’ll go up to ten. Ready?”

“No!” Ed yelps, “I should be starting from two! You’ve already done one!”

Roy sighs again, like a teacher disappointed with an unruly child. “Did you count the first one?” Ed gnashes his teeth audibly but doesn’t answer. “I didn’t think so. So, shall we begin?” Ed nods shortly and holds his breath.

It doesn’t help. The first _real_ lash makes him cry out and all the breath he’s holding in his lungs escapes all at once. He tenses up and tries to curl into himself but to no avail; the restraints hold tight. “One,” he says through a dry mouth, the remaining lashes stretching out in front of him like an eternity. He can feel his skin stinging and turning hot, but even though it hurts, his cock is reacting, stiffening where it’s pressed between the leather pad on the bench and his own belly.

Mustang waits for him to catch his breath and unclench his fists. The second lash lands with almost no warning, save for the slight whistle as it swings through the air. Ed jerks again when it touches him like it’s charged with electricity. He swears under his breath when he realises that it hasn’t landed on top of the first lash, but directly beside it. The burning sensation spreads and he squeezes around the steel plug in his ass, barely the width and length of a finger, but firm enough to be felt.

It’s one of his favourite toys because it’s connected to a steel ring that fits snugly around the base of his cock, and the joining piece is perfectly shaped to rest along his taint, so close to his skin that it can’t be seen from outside his clothing. It’s beginning to feel tight against his skin as he swells. “Two,” Ed whispers, when he’s caught his breath enough to talk.

He’s expecting the third lash. Or at least, he thinks he is. When it lands, the noise that comes out of his mouth is more a scream than anything else. He doesn’t think Roy is increasing the power behind the lashes; his body is becoming more sensitive instead. The third lash feels like it’s split his skin open, like he’s bleeding. Nothing else can explain the heat of the feeling, even though Ed knows that Roy won’t draw blood. At least, not until they’ve talked about it. “Three,” he manages, before he realises that his cock is now fully hard, squashed beneath his own body weight, leaking a sticky puddle onto the leather surface beneath it. He shifts, or he tries to, but there’s no escaping this wet patch.

The fourth and fifth blows reduce him to tears, spilling hot down his cheeks and seeping between his lips. His entire ass is on fire because the lashes have been neatly spaced out to cover as much surface as possible, and he thinks his face must be as hot as his ass feels because it’s also burning with arousal. He can barely get the numbers out because of how much it hurts, because his tongue is thick and stupid from how much he _likes_ it. Even though the whip is only touching his ass, his whole body is pulsing with desire.

There’s a longer pause than usual, and then gentle fingers on his cheeks, making him hiss even though the touch is soft. Roy’s hand slides up from the small of his back to his neck, counting his vertebrae and then digging into the tense muscles of his shoulders, making him moan from how good it feels. “Do you want to stop?” Roy asks.

Ed doesn’t even have to think about it before shaking his head. “Keep going.”

Roy huffs but doesn't laugh. “All the way to ten?” Ed nods. “Can I move down to your thighs?” Ed can’t even begin to express how much he wants it, and his overwhelmed brain translate his consent into a wet choked noise. He just hopes Roy understands him, and thankfully he does, hushing Ed and wiping his tears away. “I hear you. Do you want something to bite down on? I admit I enjoy hearing you, but if you’re worried you’ll bite your tongue, I’d rather—”

Ed shakes his head. He wants Roy to hear him too, so he knows what this is doing to him. “Ready to go again?” Roy asks, clearly expecting an answer even though Ed has been rendered non-verbal. He nods.

The brief interlude has allowed the burning pain on his ass to recede into a distant sort of throb. It doesn’t hurt less, but differently, less sharp and immediate than before. Ed is almost grateful for the reprieve, until Roy lands the sixth blow and Ed can’t stop his shout. Somehow in the reprieve his body had become accustomed to the duller sensation, and the sixth lash reminds him again just how much it can hurt. His cock throbs and pulses like he’s going to explode, but the steel ring tucked snugly beneath his balls has a chokehold on his release.

“Six,” he manages to gasp, scrambling for the shreds of his coherence.

“You’re beautiful like this,” Roy says, and Ed gasps. He must look a mess, blotchy and red and without any semblance of control - and Roy finds him _beautiful_. “You take this so well, I can’t believe we’ve never done this before.”

The lash lands without warning, below his cheeks, lower than where his thighs join his hips. The tip of the whip curls around the flesh of his thigh and bites into the skin of his inner thigh before it releases, and Ed _moans_ , the sound emerging from his throat cracked and broken. His skin feels too tight and white-hot, like he’s being branded, like he’s almost definitely split open where the whip has touched him.

He wonders what it would feel like if the tip of the whip were to lick his cock, and the thought of it makes him feel incandescent.

Long moments drip past while Ed tries to collect his thoughts, tries to get a grip on himself, but he can’t quite get there. His entire universe has narrowed to the screaming lines of sensation running across his ass and his thighs. He knows the longer he waits, the worse the next one is going to be, but he can’t make himself count - he’s struggling to breathe.

“Are you forgetting something?” Roy’s voice is steady and calm, and it nudges him backwards off the precipice of madness.

Ed shakes his head. “Seven.”

Eight lands on his other thigh, and Ed gives up all semblance of dignity and wails, pressing his face into the seat of the bench. He’s shaking now, so unspeakably grateful for the restraints, because otherwise he’d have fallen off the seat by now. At least this way he doesn’t have to think; he just melts where he is, spine and hips lax, too exhausted to even flinch anymore. Sweat is making him stick to the leather surface, but he feels none of it. “Eight,” is a whisper. Roy takes mercy and doesn’t press.

Nine is the first lash that cuts diagonally across the others, and it sends sensations ratcheting through the roof and somewhere into the stratosphere. Ed’s eyes roll into the back of his head and his vision whites out. His cock gushes slick onto the flat of the leather seat and he squirms, smearing it around in his futile quest to get some stimulus, _anything_. He’s not entirely sure he hasn’t died and gone to heaven, if such a place even exists.

When Ed comes back to himself, he’s desperate in a way he’s never been before. His ass is on fire, and his body is screaming for release, but it’s not enough. The plug inside him isn’t enough to override the ring squeezed tight around the base of his cock. Roy is standing much closer to him now, hand stroking down his flank, tracing lines up and down Ed’s welted ass like he owns it.

“It hurts,” Ed pants, trying to lean into Roy’s cool hand, even though the restraints have no slack to give. Pain isn’t the right word for it; it only encompasses half, or a third of what Ed is feeling now. He doesn’t have any better words in the face of the scramble his brains have become. He doesn’t ever want this dizzying feeling to stop.

“Do you want me to stop?” Roy barely gets the question out before Ed is shaking his head, as furiously as he can. “It looks gorgeous on you,” Roy continues without a hitch, and it only manages to fluster Ed more. “I’m not sure I shouldn’t restart, since you seem to have forgotten your count entirely.”

“Nine!” Ed yelps, because as stunning an experience as this is, he won’t survive another set of lashes. He’d just die halfway through and he’d never get to find out how this ends. “Please,” he begs, even though he’s not sure what he’s begging for. “Please Roy.” Perhaps for an end, or a release that has nothing to do with the straps around his wrist. Perhaps for both.

“Are you up for something harder? For your last stroke? Do you think you could come just from this?” Ed whines high in his throat, the thought pushing him past words.

“I’m going to need an answer, darling.” Roy strokes his hair and Ed whines again, struggling for coherence. “Release your fist if you want it, keep your fingers clenched if you’re not sure, or if you don’t.” Roy’s hand on the back of Ed’s head grounds him even more than the restraints do, and only then does he realise that his fingers are clenched so tightly that his nails are digging crescents into his own palms. He forces himself to loosen them until all five fingers are splayed out, and with whatever is left in him, he touches Roy’s thigh. The searing prickling burn in his ass is dulling again, and his relief is mixed with a sense of loss. He wants the flame alchemist to set his body on _fire_.

“Yes,” he finds the words inside somewhere. “ _Yes_ , Roy.”

“Alright, darling.” Roy strokes his hair one more time and then there’s something near his mouth, too close to his face for him to see it properly. “Bite down on this, love.” Ed opens his mouth and lets Roy slide a strip of leather between his teeth, and the sheer anticipation of the final blow has his cock leaking steadily like a tap. It’s something Al or Winry could never understand, but this is the purest thing in the world. Pain is never anything but itself. It’s honest, and it’s easy when he doesn’t have to think so hard. Ed trusts that Roy will never give him more than he can handle. If Roy gives it to him, it must mean he’s capable of handling it. The entire world is simple, like this.

Roy steps back until he’s no longer within Ed’s frame of vision, but in his minds’ eye Ed can see Roy planting his feet firmly on the ground, his arms flexing with strength as he takes position. Ed trembles and bites down as hard as he can; he doesn’t want to bite his own tongue off. And then he waits, subconsciously categorising the different things he’s feeling.

Roy doesn’t make him wait long. Unlike the first lash, the tenth lands so fast that Ed almost doesn’t hear the leather crack until _after_.

When the whip touches him, it’s pure agony, crisp and clean and _glorious_. Ed imagines his skin splitting like an overripe peach and he could have screamed from it if not for the bit in his mouth.

It sends him sailing over the edge, like it’s the easiest thing in the world, like he’s attached to a bungee cord hooked to his spine straight through his belly button and he’s free-falling off a cliff.

Ed feels his entire body tense, and then _snap_ with the force of his orgasm. Everything inside him is curling from sheer sensation, from his fingers and toes to his guts inside him, but he’s immobilised by the restraints and it’s all he can do to lie there and shake and cry out loud, keeping his eyes shut because even the light is too much to bear, now.

It takes a long time for him to come back into himself, but when he does he finds that he’s wrenched one of the arm restraints straight off the bench, and Roy is stroking long soothing lines down his back, shushing him gently. He’s throbbing all over, from his face to his chest to his ass, pulsing like there’s too much blood inside him and it’s all bursting to get out. His cock is still hard against his stomach and there’s a high keening sound in his ears. It takes a moment for Ed to realise that he’s the one making it.

When he stops, Roy leans down to kiss the back of his head. “Are you alright, darling?”

Ed can’t speak yet, so he focuses on his clenched fists, on unfurling them and spreading his fingers out. He taps against Roy’s thigh with his freed hand; their agreed signal that he’s okay, even if he’s non-verbal.

“Good,” Roy replies as if he’d actually answered, and brings Ed’s hand back down to the leather bench where it had once been attached. The familiar crackle of alchemy lights up the room along with a faint scent of ozone as Roy fixes the bench, securing Ed again. The feel of Roy’s alchemy against his skin sends thrills running down his spine.

When Roy stands back up, Ed can’t see him anymore. He can only hear the clank of brass where Roy unbuckles his belt, the rustle of fabric when his trousers slide down his thighs, and all the hair on the back of Ed’s neck is standing up. “You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you?” Roy asks from somewhere behind him, before his hands land on Ed’s hips, close enough to his ass that it makes him hiss. “God, look at you.” Roy swears, tracing his fingers along Ed’s ass, following the lines which have been left by the whip, making Ed flinch away. It’s pure instinct; it’s where he’s most vulnerable, like an open wound. It feels dizzying and incredible but that doesn’t mean he’s immune to pain.

Roy is gentle but insistent. Even when Ed flinches away or freezes in anticipation, his fingers assess Ed’s skin with a light touch. “Didn’t break skin,” Roy comments, sounding only a little rueful. Ed can’t help but feel the same way. “Still, that means you don’t need any medical attention. I can go ahead and do this,” Roy continues, sliding his index finger into Ed’s ass, crooking the tip of it with unerring precision to find where Ed is most sensitive. Ed groans and drops his head against the bench with a _thunk_.

Roy’s finger reminds Ed that the steel finger is still nestled snugly inside him, and that there’s a cock ring clasped around the base of his cock. The sensations had become so familiar that he hadn’t even been noticing them, anymore. That all changes when Roy slides a second finger into him, making him feel perfectly full. “You take me so well,” Roy praises and Ed hums, trying to wriggle back onto Roy’s fingers, to no avail. “Patience, love. Hurting you deliberately is one thing; I don’t want to hurt you by accident.”

“Bastard,” Ed rasps when Roy crooks both fingers inside him, making him jolt like he’s been electrified. The move makes his entire body protest and Ed groans, exhausted but in the best possible way. Roy’s answering laugh feels like a warm caress against his skin.

Roy’s fingers withdraw and a bottle cap clicks, a wonderfully familiar sound, but not as familiar as the sensation of Roy’s cock pressing against his ass, cool and slippery with lube. It’s different this time because Ed’s ass feels like, well, it’s been beaten, and as much as he likes this, he also wants to flinch away.

Roy shushes him again and pays no heed to the tension stiffening Ed’s spine, pushing his cock into Ed’s ass in a single smooth sweep. Ed doesn’t even have the time to protest because Roy hasn’t removed the steel finger, and combined with the thickness of Roy’s cock, it’s almost too much, spreading and splitting him apart from the core. “ _Fuck_ ,” is about all he can manage.

Roy slides in until his hips are pressed against Ed’s ass. Roy’s hands move from his hips until they’re rested squarely on either side of his ass, palms flat against his skin, stimulating every inch of his abused skin at once, making him cry out loud. He squeezes Ed’s flesh, and Ed squeezes around Roy’s cock in turn, making an already-tight fit almost uncomfortably so. “You’re going to come for me one more time, before I come inside you. Alright?”

Roy doesn’t wait for Ed to respond before he starts moving, setting a punishing pace. It’s like Ed has never been fucked before, because every single inch of his body is alight with sensations, both pleasure and pain. Normally it takes him some time to get there, but this time he starts at the crest, all his nerves screaming in unison. Ed wants to move too, to move back to meet Roy, to move away when it becomes too much, but now that he’s restrained, he can’t do anything except lie there and take it as the burning sensation in his gut ratchets higher and higher.

He’s going to come again. Roy won’t let up until he’s fucked Ed completely stupid, until his brain has liquefied and dribbled out of his ears. The knowledge of the inevitability makes his cock twitch helplessly. Roy is fucking noises out of him, and with every slap of skin against skin Ed cries out. His fists are clenched again but if this stops, he thinks his heart will give out.

Roy’s grip on his ass tightens and makes him keen but Roy doesn’t let up. Instead he seems to pick up his pace, fucking Ed even harder until there isn’t even enough space between thrusts to breathe, and flashes of light are marring Ed’s vision. “Look at you,” Roy growls, digging his fingertips into the flesh of Ed’s ass, “you take me so well, like you were _made_ for me.”

His grip on Ed’s ass suddenly releases, but before Ed can even begin to question it, Roy slaps him, right over the place where he’d been whipped. Ed hasn’t even begun to process the hurt when his orgasm tears out of him, shredding his throat on the way out, rubbing him raw with sandpaper from the inside. He clenches so hard that he can barely feel Roy’s final stuttering thrust before he spills inside him and then drapes himself over Ed’s back like a blanket.

They’re both breathing hard, like they’d been running a marathon, but Ed is shaking like a leaf. When he regains his awareness, his vision is blurred with tears and Roy has already alchemised the locks around his wrists to set him free. Roy’s lips are pressed against the nap of Ed’s neck and his touch is so soft that Ed can’t help but start crying, overwhelmed by how gentle it is.

Roy kisses his neck and his back a few more times before drawing back, standing up and pulling out from Ed. A warm hard undoes the clasp of the cock ring and slides the steel toy out too, releasing a mess of sticky fluids to drip down his thighs. Even when his legs are freed, Ed doesn’t move. He can’t.

Standing up, even with Roy’s shoulder under his arm, and his hand around Ed’s waist, is torturous. Every joint pops as he straightens up, and the skin of his ass burns like he’s been sitting on a bed of chili peppers. His heart is still pounding like he’d run a marathon. Ed wants to do nothing more than lie down and sleep for twelve hours. Even though he’s just been sitting there, he’s exhausted, and the aftershocks of his orgasm are still making his toes curl, and his fingers twitch.

“Let’s get you in a bath,” Roy says, leading him towards the bathroom.

Ed shakes his head and lifts his hand to his face to wipe off the tears that are clumping his lashes. “Bed,” he rasps, voice sore. He must have been screaming, if the way his throat hurts is anything to go by.

“Definitely a bath, love. You’ll feel a lot better.”

Ed doesn’t have the energy to argue, so he follows Roy’s lead, sitting on the closed toilet seat while the tub fills. When he gets up, he’s honestly a little surprised he doesn’t leave bloody smears against the white plastic. Roy has to help Ed into the tub because he can’t quite bend at the waist yet, but gets in before Ed can collapse. Ed doesn’t think too much, just lets Roy arrange him so that he’s lying against Roy’s chest, and then slides down until warm water comes all the way up to his chin. Roy’s hands settle on his hips with almost no pressure, like he’s just touching to make sure Ed doesn’t slide any further and drown. The water feels incredible on all his aching muscles, but his ass hurts like anything. He finally feels his heart rate settle.

“Can I wash your hair?” Roy asks, which is a stupid question because it’s not something Ed would ever turn down. It only takes seconds after Ed nods for Roy to start lathering up. His fingers rubbing circles in Ed’s scalp and all the way down his neck and shoulders feel amazing, and Ed starts to drowse, until Roy wakes him up to rinse off.

They take a quick shower and Roy practically has to carry him to bed, where he chooses to lie on his stomach instead of on his back, making Roy laugh. “Don’t laugh,” Ed slurs, feeling like he’s coming back to himself as minutes pass, taking him further and further from the dazed state he’d been in. “You’ve bruised my ass so badly I won’t be able to sit for days.”

Roy lies down beside him and pats his lower back, dangerously close to his ass, making Ed hiss like an angry cat. “Would you like an ice-pack for that?” he asks. Ed isn’t _so_ bruised that he can’t reach out to smack Roy, doing nothing to stop his laughter.

“God,” he whispers, when he’s finally done laughing at Ed’s expense. “I really love you, Edward Elric.”

After everything they’ve done this evening, it’s this that makes Ed’s face heat up, that makes him want to cover his face and _die_ from how good it feels. “I love you too, Roy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [Morgrim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgrim/pseuds/Morgrim)'s Ambrosia and Ichor series, and by a very, _very_ juicy discussion on a particularly kinky discord server which made short work of my sanity for 72 whole hours. 
> 
> Love to the usual suspects; [Kotosk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iginita/pseuds/kotosk) and [shipallthebooty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipallthebooty/pseuds/shipallthebooty) for egging me on and beta-ing this (all remaining errors are my own), and Rie - ilu <3
> 
> As usual, I own nothing. Comments & Kudos keep me alive <3


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